


Shadowkitty (my family and other animals)

by Drifting_clouds



Series: My family and other animals [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, shadowkitties, silly fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 16:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drifting_clouds/pseuds/Drifting_clouds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Stark kids might all have direwolves, but Theon Greyjoy has a fluffykitty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadowkitty (my family and other animals)

**Author's Note:**

> There was a prompt on the asoiaf kink meme asking for Theon getting a pet. I really had to write this crackish fic where characters are hopelessly OOC (because I don’t know much of them since I only watched the TV show). This story is not betaed and English is not my mother tongue so yes, I hope it’s not completely unreadable.

It is a surprisingly mild afternoon when a group of riders dismount in the middle of a small clearing deep in the Wolfswood. Rumours of poachers trespassing on Ned Stark’s lands have led him and Jory Cassel to investigate even if they know that they’re not going to find much more than a few discarded traps and a couple of animal carcasses. From somewhere between the trees come the excited voices of Bran and Rickon, exploring the nearby forest along with their direwolves, while Jon Snow is taking care of his horse, patting him gently on the rump as the animal lowers his head and starts grazing. Robb and Theon are engrossed in a hushed conversation that has the two of them grinning like kids while above their heads a lonely blue jay shrieks twice before flying away.

Suddenly, the bushes part with a rustling sound and Grey Wind comes trotting towards them with his head held high and something hanging limply from his jaws. At first, Robb thinks it is just a dormouse or maybe a very big rat that the direwolf has caught while he wandered ahead, but then the animal squirms and lets out an irritated whine and the young man notices that Grey Wind is carrying it by the scruff of the neck with the outmost care of a mother taking her pup to safety. Exchanging surprised looks with Jon, Robb holds out his hands half expecting the direwolf to drop his bundle, but the animal simply jogs past him with a twinkle in his eyes that resembles a grin and sits in front of Theon instead, his tail thumping madly on the ground. When the young man reaches out, Grey Wind finally lets go of his prize and barks once before padding back to Robb. 

Theon stares dazedly at the two slanted half open eyes of a very young cub, as the little animal whines and tries to wriggle free of the annoying hands holding it. The furry head seems unnaturally big and lolls everywhere as if the cub doesn’t quite know what to do with it, with a big pink nose that twitches at the smells around it and tiny triangular ears ending in tufts of black hair. Ned Stark gets closer then looks at Jory Cassell standing silently beside him.

“I thought these creatures were hardly sighted south of the Wall…” the captain of the guards says uneasily.

The lord of Winterfell nods. 

“Poachers must have killed the cub’s mother and left the poor thing to die when they realized they could do nothing with it”

Maesters and soothsayers would probably see some kind of strange premonition in this, especially so soon after the litter of six direwolves they found only a few months before, but Ned is a practical man and the white stripes crossing the cub’s black fur are fairly easy to recognize. A shadowcat: one of the most fearsome animals to prowl the woods, the one no hunter with common sense and a modicum of self preservation would ever want to cross path with. The cub mews a yawn and begins to doze off as Theon absently scratches its back. Robb pats Grey Wind and moves closer as well, looking at Jon and motioning towards the trees with his head.

“We cannot keep it” Ned says gruffly.

“Yes, my Lord” Theon answers. 

“This is a wild animal, it cannot be treated as a pet…”

“I understand, my Lord.” 

And yet, Ned sees the young ward’s hands clench briefly as if he would like to defy the order he didn’t voice out loud. In the half light of the forest, his greenish eyes are oddly bright as they look at him before flickering away in feigned indifference and the lord of Winterfell finds himself thinking that the boy in front of him has cat-like eyes, eyes that bear an uncanny resemblance to those of the cub in his arms. It is a strange thought, almost unsettling and Ned cannot but feel a tinge of unease when his hand curls loosely around the hilt of the dagger strapped to his waist. Not to mention that they already have a whole pack of direwolves living in Winterfell, so it’s not as if they never have to deal with wild animals before.

Before he can make a decision, Rickon literally bursts into the small clearing followed by Bran and Jon (the same Jon, Ned could have sworn was beside him merely a split second before). The little boy’s eyes light up as soon as they rest on the cub and he tramples over Ghost in his haste to get to the foundling. The white direwolf huffs a protest at the rough treatment and barely draws back in time to avoid being hit by a flailing little leg as the boy scrambles back to his feet. 

“Kitty!” Rickon cries out in glee.

“No” Ned tries to explain “it’s a shadowcat.”

He wants to add the word dangerous, but really, who would possibly believe him when they’re too busy cooing over the small black bundle of fur in Theon Greyjoy’s hands? And yes, Ned Stark is a warrior and he has fought enough battles to know that the upper hand was lost the moment his youngest son has arrived. Because while he has no need to explain his actions to the older boys and he could probably reason with Bran, Rickon has a stubborn streak ten miles long and he simply won’t listen to him. 

Even Jory seems to have reached the same conclusion, at least judging from the grin that he doesn’t even bother to hide as he roughly pats the cub on the head. The youngest Stark follows the gesture with wide eyes as he bounces excitedly then he reaches for the small animal.

“Shadowkitty!” he beams.

“It’s Theon’s” Robb laughs “you must ask him.”

Rickon immediately turns to the young man, his eyes huge and pleading and Theon finds himself chuckling. Crouching in front of him, he hands Rickon the cub, wincing as the kid immediately squishes it into his arms like one of Sansa’s dolls. When Shaggydog slinks forwards, Ned almost hopes that the animal will mistake the shadowcat for a tasty snack, but the big direwolf merely sniffs at it before planting a slobbery kiss that earns him a death glare. Bran laughs softly as he squats beside his little brother with Summer craning his neck from behind his owner’s shoulder to peer at the newcomer.

“What are you going to name it?” he asks.

Theon shrugs and remains silent because he refuses to name something that might be dead in a few minutes. For months now he has envied the Stark kids their direwolves, not because he particularly wants an overgrown pet with a snappy attitude, but because those wolves mean being part of a family that will never include him. Which kind of sucks, but that’s the story of his life ever since his father rebelled and he was forced to leave his homeland as a hostage.

“Go ahead boy” Ned tells him, with a sigh (because one of the perks of being a warrior is knowing when you’re surrounded and outnumbered) “you might as well pick a decent name before my son decides to take the matter into his own little hands…”

Theon gives him an incredulous smile and the lord of Winterfell is ready to swear that it is the first real smile he has seen on the young ward’s face in a very long time. It is the kind of smile that it’s neither arrogant nor sarcastic and that only Robb can elicit from him in a few rare occasions.

“Fluffy!”

“No Rickon.”

“Kitty?”

“Nope.”

“Fluffykitty.”

“Seriously? No way.”

“How about Kraken?”

“I like that” Theon nods as his mind goes to the golden sea monster emblazoned on his family’s banner. Trust Robb to come up with the perfect suggestion…. one that reminds him of his own legacy and it’s not embarrassing. 

“Cracker!” Rickon cries out as he bounces around with a rather disgruntled cub in his arms “Crack-y”

Well, not too embarrassing, at least.

“Err, you might want to get it back” Robb whispers as he rests a comfortable hand on Theon’s shoulder and squeezes gently, grinning softly as the young man looks up at him “before the poor thing gets sea sick…”

Ned observes them and he’s tempted to hold on to his stern façade a little longer as ominous visions of tapestries torn to shreds and furniture used as scratching post dance into his mind. And a hearty talk with the older boys is probably in order before Theon and Robb manage to convince Rickon that it’s perfectly safe to stick his head into the shadowcat’s mouth (he has no doubt that they are going to try something like this). Yet, he admits to himself, the look on Catelyn’s face alone is probably worth a few mishaps. After all, everyone loves kitties, right?

THE END

I might add another chapter because it would be fun to see the Lannisters' reaction when they get to Winterfell...


End file.
